


Do You Want To Get Better?

by Sismyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Addiction, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 05:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20989748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sismyn/pseuds/Sismyn
Summary: Alex won't stop following Michael around the Wild Pony after what Max did. Post 1.13.Sorry, won't tag proper on mobile.





	Do You Want To Get Better?

**Author's Note:**

> You can blame [Halsey's Graveyard](https://YouTube.com/?v=NwmidlDwuKE).

Alex took to sleeping in and then working in the afternoon. Once his boss was satisfied, he'd text Isobel. 

> (Sent) Where's Michael?
> 
> (Isobel Evans) Same as always
> 
> (Sent) Thanks
> 
> (Isobel Evans) No, thank *you*

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He drove to the Wild Pony and sat at the bar across from Maria. 

"He's at the pool tables today," she said as she poured him a single shot of tequila. 

Alex nodded and found the signature black Stetson in the mirror. "How many has he had?"

"Only three, but he's been drinking nail polish remover like it's going out of style."

He knocked back the tequila and stood. "He thinks he's going to start a fight. Don't worry, I won't let him get hurt."

Maria snorted. "He's made of rubber. I'm more worried about him scaring off my customers."

"You don't mean that."

She turned away. "I'm not worried about him. He has you."

Alex tapped her arm and went to lean against the booths nearest the billiards. Michael noticed him immediately. It never mattered how inebriated he was, his eyes found Alex like he was returning to orbit. 

There was a hurt twitch before Michael plastered his fake smirk on. "Sorry ladies, my babysitter's here."

Alex crossed his arms as Michael abandoned his game. "You're not a baby, and I'm definitely no babysitter."

He propped his elbow up beside his head, acetone strong on his breath as he said, "Why are you always here making sure I'm not having fun, then, Alex?"

"I'm here to make sure you don't lose any teeth."

He grinned and rolled back on his heels as though he was delighted at the thought. "You really think someone's gonna hit me that hard?"

"You keep encouraging people to treat you like a punching bag, so yeah, it seems like a possibility." Alex tracked Michael's hand as he moved toward him and caught his wrist before he could touch him. 

"That make you my bodyguard?"

He rolled his eyes, and in that split second, Michael leaned in far closer than they'd been in a while. "Guerin, what are you doing?"

"I was thinkin' about going home with those girls 'fore you came over." Alex dropped his wrist. "You gonna take me home instead? S'only fair."

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to leave?"

"No, I wanna pin you to this wall and kiss you until you can't remember your name, then make you come over and over. But I can wait till we get somewhere private. I know you're shy."

Alex took a deep breath. "You're high as a kite, Guerin."

Michael's breath ghosted over his jaw. "So what? I love you. You love me. Take me home, baby."

"Don't. I'm not going to do that," Alex said stiffly. "Not while you're like this."

Michael huffed and pushed away from the wall. "I'll find someone who will, then."

Alex took fifteen seconds to compose himself before finding Michael again. He was flirting with the girls again, and they began a new game of pool. Alex didn't mind watching them. Every woman in the Wild Pony knew better than to leave with Michael -- most of them had done it in the past, and at the moment, he wasn't worth the trouble. 

The first week after Max did his thing, Michael had constantly picked fights, until he realized Alex quickly intervened. The fight was over as soon as he stepped in because one does not participate in a fistfight against an Air Force Captain and win. Michael learned that the hard way when, in frustration, he tried to swing at him, and Alex merely put him in a headlock and dragged him outside and home, ending his night far earlier than he wanted.

So now Michael flirted with everyone and anyone. "It's fight or fuck, and you won't let me fight--" as he attempted to explain. But he couldn't get anyone to do more than kiss him. (And he used that time to start a fight with a huge guy who would've crushed Michael like a bug.)

Michael crashed into the wall beside him at last call, hours of unsuccessful flirting and, if Alex had counted correctly, four entire bottles of nail polish remover and two beers later. Alex automatically supported him, and Michael clung to him like a leech. "Alex, Alex, Alex!"

"Yes, Guerin?"

Michael slid halfway down Alex's chest, hat seriously in danger of falling off his head. "I wanna suck you off."

He pulled him up by the back of his shirt. "No, you don't."

"You're right. You're so smart. I want you to fuck my brains out on your dining room table."

"I don't have a dining room," he said warily. "I think you need to sleep all that acetone off."

"No, I don't want to. Just leave me alone," Michael said, and he pulled away roughly and headed for the door. 

Alex gave Maria a wave and followed him, catching up just in time to prevent his truck door from closing. 

"You  _ aren't _ driving."

"Alex, stop following me, I'm going to the Airstream like you want!"

He poked Michael in the side until he slid over, grumbling. Alex sat in the driver's seat and put the seatbelt on, joined shortly by Michael's arms. 

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't want you to kill anyone or yourself driving under the influence."

"No, Alex, why are you  _ doing _ this?"

He gently pushed him off and pulled the other seatbelt across him. "Because I  _ do _ love you, Guerin, and I'm not going to let you destroy yourself."

"Don't believe you." Michael crossed his arms and sunk into the carseat. "You'll get tired of me. And then I'll get what I deserve."

"I know you don't believe me, but I won't get tired of you. You don't deserve to be hurt. I'll keep making sure you're not being a punching bag or racking up DUIs until you believe me."

"What if I never do?" His voice wobbled, and when Alex glanced at him, he had wet eyes to match.

"Then I'll never stop."

Michael took a deep, rattling breath and didn't speak again until they parked in the junkyard. 

"Don't you have better things to do than look after me?" There was no fight left in his tone. 

"No," Alex said honestly. "You're not okay, Guerin. I'm here for you. Unless you'd rather have someone else."

"I want... I want you to stay."

Alex nodded and took the keys from the ignition. "I'll stay tonight, but I have to work tomorrow. Okay?"

Michael nodded. "Alex, I wanna kiss you. Can I?"

He took Michael's hat off and kissed his forehead. He put the hat on his own head to keep Michael from chasing him. "Rain check. You need to sleep." 

"Alex," he whined.

He was already out of the truck and around to the passenger side door to help Michael out. "Come on."

"No, you look so fucking good in my hat, come here and lemme make out with your face." He made grabby hands, so Alex stepped out of reach.

"You are such a child."

"Which makes you my babysitter."

"Come on, man. Have some water, go to sleep."

Michael frowned but stumbled out of the truck, and Alex caught his elbow to help him to the Airstream bed, where Michael kicked off all his clothes. 

"You have to wear something if you want me to stay."

"Why? Too sexy for you?"

"Obviously. Just put some pants on."

"Wow, if I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, I'd owe it all to the Chavez County police."

Alex only turned his head, and Michael dug through a drawer and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. 

"Happy?"

"Never," he deadpanned and sat beside him to get his leg situated. Like magnets, Alex felt Michael's fingers trace his spine and up his neck to flip the Stetson off. Alex said, "Can I borrow something to sleep in?"

"What if I say no?" he asked slyly.

"I'll be disappointed and sleep in my clothes."

Michael waved at the same drawer he'd gotten his pants from. He watched the ceiling as Alex changed. Softly, he said, "How would I even begin to get better? To be okay?"

Alex shooed him over so he'd have space and laid beside him. This was a new question. "Do you  _ want _ to get better?"

"I want to feel like I do deserve better, like you said, so I should, I should  _ be _ better, right?"

He found Michael's good hand -- well, they were both good, now, but this one wasn't wrapped in a bandanna -- and squeezed. "You don't have to do anything to deserve better than getting hit. But if that's how you feel, you've begun."

He nodded, some relief clear on his face. "Last week, I think, Isobel told me I should go to rehab."

Alex raised his eyebrows. "She mentioned you didn't want to. Aggressively."

"I don't, we're busy with Max stuff and all, but-- but would it help?" Michael looked so earnest. 

"Not if you don't want to be there."

He nodded again. "Then what do I do next?"

"Right now, you should sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning, okay? We'll figure it out."

"You'll help me?"

"I'll help you," Alex confirmed.

"Okay. I'll try." He pulled their still-entwined hands to his chest. "Don't let go, Alex. Please."

"I won't." 

After all, he hasn't so far.


End file.
